The Girl Who Wouldn't Kneel
by KittyOnAKeyboard
Summary: Havilah Sverrir, an outgoing seventeen-year-old girl, visited Germany with her class. Near the end of the trip, they attend a gala at Stuttgart Museum, and get far more than they bargained for. A mysterious man, claiming to be Loki of Asgard, attacks a patron and ends up killing Havilah's friend. Losing all rationality, the girl challenges the god, ultimately sealing her own fate.
1. The Gala

Yanking a wide-toothed comb through her tangled hair, Havilah Sverrir grimaced. She had just finished up her shower, and the foggy mirror was no help to her as she attempted to tease out the numerous knots in her dark hair. She grunted, a sharp pain tearing through her scalp as she grappled with the comb.

"Naomi!" she called out for her roommate, hiking the hotel towel higher. "I need some help! The comb is stuck in my hair!"

"_Again?_ Dammit, Avi! Haven't you heard of conditioner?" With a loud bang, the bathroom door burst open, revealing the tall, slender form of Havilah's friend. She wore a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants, her silky hair still damp from her own shower. "Let me do it."

With a quick grin, Avi obliged, somehow still surprised at the speed and grace with which her friend eliminated the snarls and smoothed out her unruly brown mane, even though she had seen it a dozen times.

"There," Naomi let go of her friend when she finished, shaking her head in exasperation. "You know, you're gonna have to do this on your own once you go to college."

"I know, I know," Avi sighed, exiting the steamy chamber, the tiles slick under her bare feet. "It's just so _difficult_."

Rolling her eyes, Naomi sent a light punch in Avi's direction, laughing when the brunette ducked with ease and stuck out her tongue. "Get dressed as fast as you can. It's only an hour until pickup."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Avi secured the last hairpin. She looked at her reflection, almost as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing, her hand shaking as she touched the intricate braid that lay on her shoulder, small glass beads in the shape of white flowers sprinkled throughout the strands.

With slow, calculated movements, she stood up and stepped backwards, to see herself better.

"Oh…" she breathed, taking in the girl that stood reflected in the mirror. "How did you do this, Naomi?"

She turned her head, looking over to where her friend stood, beaming. A vision in pink, Naomi simply shrugged, the soft, shimmering satin of her gown forming a climbing set of roses, each petal covered in tiny seed pearls, like tiny dewdrops. Her dark skin glowed, and she almost seemed to float as she walked over to Avi, her bare feet peeking out from under the hem.

"I just helped pick out the dress. The rest is all you." She put a hand on her friend's shoulder, gazing into the mirror with her. They stood in silence for a moment, before Naomi gently nudged Avi, grinning mischievously. "Go on, twirl. You know you want to."

Avi giggled, stepping backwards and raising her arms before spinning in a circle, her dress rippling, the light blue fabric the color of a creek at the start of spring, icy on the surface, but with a deep, shifting blue hidden underneath the layers of frost.

Suddenly, the phone rang, causing them both to jump in surprise. Naomi dashed over and picked up the receiver, putting it to her ear.

"Hello? Oh, hey, Miss Hartwell. Avi and I just need to grab our shoes. We'll be down in a second," She nodded, picking up her heels and clenching the phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she began looping the dainty straps through their corresponding clasps. "Yeah, yeah, we'll remember to bring our pocket dictionaries… Mm-hmm. See you in a bit."

Following Naomi's lead and slipping on the pair of ballet flats she had picked out, Havilah absent-mindedly threw her sketchbook and pencils into her purse. Slinging the strap of the bag over her shoulder, Avi stood and followed Naomi to the door, switching off the lights as they entered the bland hallway of the hotel and made their way towards the set of elevators, cheeks pink with excitement.

The elevator music was slow and calm, contrasting sharply with the racing of Avi's heart.

_This is going to be amazing! _She thought to herself, the butterflies in her intense enough to cause her to squirm. _Going to such a fancy event in Stuttgart, of all places! I can't wait to get there!_

* * *

The ride to the gala seemed incredibly long, and Avi couldn't help but feel impatient, drumming her fingers on her thighs, and staring out the window at the bright neon signs that blinked at her as the car flew past them. Her classmates chattered with one another, laughing and shoving each other playfully, but Havilah couldn't hear them. Her mind was moving too fast, translating words from English into German, figuring out ways to start conversations, the greet the people she would meet, to ask about the things she saw.

"What do you think, Avi?" Naomi's melodic voice shook her from her reverie, causing her to blink as she attempted to ground herself.

"Uh, what was the question?" She asked, blushing in embarrassment.

"Whether you think Stuttgart is better than Munich."

"Oh," she paused, considering. "I mean, I love them both, and it's been really fun to see what they have to offer, but I think I prefer Munich. Y'know, because of its history and everything."

There were a few well-meaning boos from the others, and someone pretended to box her ears, but she dodged the blow, grinning and laughing along with the others. They were still arguing good-naturedly when the car stopped, prompting Havilah to open the door and leap onto the sidewalk, her classmates tumbling along behind her.

The air was crisp and cold, a small wind brushing her cheeks as she took in the enormous building. Warm, golden light shone out of the windows and onto the street, reflecting off the tiny pools of rainwater that had collected between the cobblestones from the previous night's rain. Large banners hung down, announcing the museum's upcoming events in large, blocky script.

Avi made her way up the steps, taking in the rich, elegant clothing of the other patrons, and listening to the soft music that drifted out of the door. With one final step, she was over the threshold, and bathed in the warmth of the room. She stared at the stained glass windows, and watched waiters step nimbly over the feet of the guests as they delivered champagne on silver trays. Like a twig floating on a stream, she was ushered through he crowd, drifting along compliantly. Someone raised a glass in her direction, nodding in approval, and she smiled.

For once in her life, Havilah felt beautiful.


	2. Breaking Point

Two hours had passed already, and Avi was running out of things to be excited about. Somewhere along the line, probably when she started to get a headache from all the activity, she had remembered that there was a reason she hated parties, no matter how fancy. She groaned weakly, pressing a hand against her forehead as she squinted, attempting to banish the spots she saw at the corners of her vision.

_Ugh, _she rubbed her temples, leaning on the ornate marble table in the center of the room as she did so. _Shit. This music is way too loud…_

It felt like a hammer was being beaten against her brow, rhythmic and painful, and she felt vaguely nauseous. She wondered if she should go outside to cool off, but before she could decide, a woman screamed, her voice loud and shrill, adding to the pain Avi felt. She turned around, frowning, but what she saw was far worse than she had expected. A man she knew to be the head doctor, as he had been in the middle of making a speech she cared nothing about, was struggling, clawing at the hand that was clenching his neck. People began to run, yelling and shouting in fear as they tried to flee from the scene that was unfolding in the middle of the room. Havilah was frozen, her feet unable to move, as she was forced to watch in horror as a tall, elegant man, smiling sadistically, pulled a device out of his jacket and flipped a switch, all before plunging it into the doctor's eye. Havilah screamed as the doctor writhed in pain, his limbs flailing as he struggled. She covered her mouth, finally able to move as she turned to run. Her shoes slid across the marble floor, and she kicked them off as she ran, using her bare feet to help her gain momentum as she moved. Racing out of the museum, she bolted down the steps, the cold ground sending sharp, shooting pain up her legs.

Desperate, she searched the crowd for someone, _anyone _she knew. She found nobody, and a cry of despair erupted from her as she whirled back around to see the attacker exit the museum, walking with such leisure that one would think he had all the time in the world. As he strode forward, his clothing began to shift and change, glowing with an ethereal light as an intricately layered outfit, covered in golden armor, replaced the suit he wore. The shouting and screaming of the crowd swelled, and the people scattered in all directions, dropping purses and tripping over one another as they stumbled in their rush to escape. Sirens blared in the background, and Havilah felt a glimmer of hope.

_We'll be saved, _she told herself, smiling in relief. _Saved from this… This madman._

Her relief lasted only a moment, however, as there was a blast of bright, blue light, as the squad cars went flying, soaring across the square.

Time slowed down to a crawl as Avi watched the graceful arc of the vehicles' descent, her heart stopping momentarily as she realized what was happening. Then, as quickly as it had started, the cars crashed to the ground, landing atop a girl and shaking Avi to the core.

The girl wore a pink dress.

"Naomi!" Havilah screamed, her voice seeming to echo in the caverns of her own mind as she reached out for her friend. "_Naomi!_"

She knew she was running, but she couldn't feel her legs, couldn't sense the ground beneath her feet. All she was aware of was the distance between her and her beloved friend. Something stung her neck, sharp and painful, but she didn't notice, and kept moving, tears streaming down her face as she bolted across the square.

The car lay on top of Naomi's abdomen, smoking and hissing as the cool night air hit the heated metal.

"Oh, God," she whispered, dropping to the ground and cradling her best friend's head in her arms. "Naomi, I'm gonna… I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? It's going to be alright, I promise… I- I promise."

Hot tears dripped down her cheeks as she began to push at the hunk of metal that lay on her friend. The smell of gas and burning rubber turned her stomach, but she gritted her teeth and continued to shove the debris aside as best she could. She wept in frustration, clawing at the wreckage, ignoring Naomi's attempts to stop her.

"Avi! _Avi_!" Naomi grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her to the ground. "Stop it! There's no point!"

She coughed weakly, her lungs making a wheezing noise.

"No, no! I can do it! I can get you out!" Havilah insisted, starting to get back up, her legs shaking. "Just hang in there! I told you I'd get you out!"

"Stop it! There's no point to it! _Give up,_" Naomi began to cry, her grip on Avi's wrist tightening as she continued. "Everything's broken... I can't feel it, but… I know it's broken. You need to go."

Havilah sobbed, burying her head in the soft folds of Naomi's dress. She expected to smell perfume, but she could only find the gritty, metallic scent of blood. She could hear her friend's heartbeat, uneven and slow, and she knew, deep down, that Naomi was right. It was too late.

"I can't leave you here…" she whispered, her voice hoarse. She could hear the man talking in the background, but everything he said seemed to blur together, a jumbled mass of words and movements. All she could see was Naomi's pale, bloody face. "We need to get you to a hospital…"

"No," a deep, rattling breath tore through Naomi's chest as she whimpered in pain, and Havilah watched in horror as blood began to trickle from her mouth. "No point… Nothing… You can do…"

"No!" Avi's voice broke, and she hugged Naomi tightly. "You can't! Don't leave me here, Naomi! You have to live! You need to!"

Naomi's breath began to slow, and she lifted a hand to touch Havilah's cheek.

"You were… The best friend… I could… Ever have… I love you… Avi." She smiled weakly, her words faltering as she cried. "Live… For me."

With that, her hand fell back to the ground, and she looked up at the sky, her face full of a strange sort of hope. And, then, she moved no more, her body limp, her eyes unseeing.

"No… Stop it, Naomi!" Havilah shook her friend, her voice breaking. "_Stop it! _It isn't funny! Wake up! _Wake up, Naomi!_"

There was no response, and Avi finally understood:

Naomi was gone. She would never see her friend's smile, never joke around with her, never go to college together, or go on the road-trip they had discussed so many times. Everything in Avi's world fell apart, and she loosened her grip, letting the body fall back onto the ground, still and cold.

She sat on the ground for what seemed like an eternity, her mind empty. She could hear the beating of her heart, the movement of the blood in her veins, the breath in her lungs. It felt wrong, somehow, the fact that she sat there, painfully aware of her own existence, while someone lay next to her, dead.

With a trembling hand, she closed Naomi's hazel eyes, the eyes she had seen filled with joy and despair, anger and frustration, love and hate.

She stood, turning to face the man who had killed her best friend. Havilah felt nothing. She was numb, an empty shell, devoid of all emotion. Her mind was blank, and she was unaware of the movements of her body as she crossed the plaza, burying herself in the crowd. Pushing people aside, she made her way through the throng, her eyes glazed and vacant. Soon, she stood at the front, staring at the murderer.

Who was this man, who thought he could play with others at will? Who was he to decide who lived or died? Who did he think he was?

Something bubbled up within her, her chest heating up, as if she had swallowed a handful of hot coals. She clenched her fist, rage building up inside her, like a soda bottle on a hot summer's day.

She knew this feeling, although she had never experienced it. It was white-hot, burning up within her, a fire building throughout her entire body. She knew this wasn't anger. It was pure, unadulterated, mindless, genuine fury. It coursed through her body, a tidal wave washing away all her inhibitions, setting her nerves aflame and making her muscles tense up, like a wild animal readying itself to spring. Her body, her mind, her _soul_, was prepared.

She attacked, a feral scream issuing from her mouth as she kicked and scratched, throwing herself against the object of her hatred.

She attacked, and she felt nothing.


	3. Taken

"You bastard!" The girl was screaming, her blue eyes blazing with fury as she shoved at Loki's chest with a surprising amount of force for one so small. "You fucking monster! I'll kill you!"

The attack had caught him off-guard, and he had no problem admitting that to himself, but he still had the upper hand in both size and strength, and he knew it. He sighed, grabbing her wrist, his grip tight enough to make her cry out in pain, and threw her onto the ground. Her dress, delicate and expensive, ripped, the blue fabric stained with dirt and blood. Her face was smeared with mud from the street, but she didn't even bother wiping it away, her entire being focused solely on the god.

Loki smiled as he watched her sit up, her shoulder and back bleeding from where they had scraped the pavement. She was about a head shorter than him, with a boyish figure and a skinny frame. Tiny and weak, especially compared to him.

"How entertaining," he purred, kicking her back to the ground and planting his foot on her stomach. "_You _think you can hurt _me_? You're pathetic, girl. I might just spare you if you apologize to me. I am, after all, your rightful king."

Her eyes narrowed, and she spat at him.

"Being a king doesn't mean you can kill innocent people," She growled, gripping his leg tightly, her eyes wild. "A king protects his people. You're no king. You're just some man with a god complex and a fancy spear."

"What's your name, girl?"

"Havilah Sverrir, if it pleases _his majesty_." Her words dripped with contempt, bitter and caustic.

"Well, Miss Sverrir," Loki kicked her hands away, chucking to himself when she let out a cry of pain. "At least you'll live on in these people's memories. Your death will be an example of what awaits those who defy me."

She said nothing, her gaze unwavering, even when he pressed the blade of his scepter into the pale skin of her neck.

"Goodbye." He said, lifting his weapon.

"No," she smiled up at the sky, her gaze settling on something just beyond his head, "Hello."

* * *

The dark-haired man looked up when she spoke, and Havilah took the chance to roll out from underneath his boot, her wounds stinging as the muddy water trapped between the cobblestones touched them. She could see a blast of blue out of the corner of her vision, and she scrambled to stand up and escape, her head spinning.

"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everyone else, we ended up disagreeing." The mysterious figure spoke, and Avi gaped at his outfit. He wore a strange sort of costume, like someone out of a comic book, red white and blue, with stars and stripes. A snarky voice in the back of her mind piped up, and she found herself wondering if he had simply sewn the American flag into the shape of a jumpsuit.

_This is the most patriotic thing I've ever seen, and my father is an ex-soldier whose favorite holiday is the fourth of July…_ She shook her head, swaying on her feet as she tried to follow along with what they were saying. The edges of her vision were vaguely blurred, the colors shifting and swirling as they dissipated, like a used paintbrush being dunked in a glass of water.

"The soldier," she saw the scary one smile, his teeth straight and white. "The man out of time."

"I'm not the one who's out of time." The all-American blond stated, making Havilah cringe.

_Why would you say that? Why? _She shuddered at the cliché, taking a step backwards.

An engine roared, and a shadow covered the square, causing her to look up in confusion. A light wind picked up the loose strands of her hair, whipping them around her face as she watched a machine gun point towards them.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down." A woman's voice echoed out from the speaker, smooth, yet commanding.

_Loki? That's really his name? I thought he was just delusional… _She continued to back away, cautiously. _Almost there… Almost… Almost…_

Her foot slipped out from under her, and she called out in surprise, beginning to reel backwards. Hands caught her, and she sighed in relief.

"Ah, thank you." She said, gratefully, as the person helped her straighten up.

"My pleasure…" the voice was smooth, like velvet, and she felt her entire body stiffen in fear. "Miss Sverrir…"

Avi could taste her own fear, sour in her mouth, and she trembled, her hair standing on end.

"No…"

"Ah, but you were so eager to sacrifice yourself before. What changed?" she could hear the laughter in his voice, and she struggled to free herself from his tight, painful grip.

"No! Let me go!" She twisted, trying to kick him, but he had already lifted her off the ground, tight to his body. She could feel his armor through her thin dress, and it felt icy cold against her skin. "Let me _go_!"

"Drop the girl, Loki." She recognized the soldier's voice, and tried to reach out a hand for him, desperate. "You're supposed to respect women, not manhandle them."

"Ah!" Havilah gasped at the pressure of Loki's fingers, digging into her upper arm. "Stop it! You're hurting me!"

"An eye for an eye…" He murmured, and she knew he was flashing his stupid, cocky smile.

"I didn't lift you off the fucking ground, you prick!" She snapped, her voice breaking in fear. "Put me down!"

"Loki, I'll give you to the count of five…" The soldier said, his voice calm. Havilah looked at him in horror, silently pleading for assistance. She could see fear in his expression, and she knew he was worried. "One…"

"Two…" Loki lifted his spear, holding it to Avi's skin, once again. "Shall we count together?"

Her breath catching in her throat, Havilah stopped struggling, closing her eyes and regulating her breath to move as little as possible.

_Will it hurt? It'll hurt, won't it? Oh, god. Why doesn't that multicolored douche of a hero help me?_

"Three…" Loki continued, and Havilah could hear a faint hissing noise, emitting from the spear. It sounded like water being splashed on a hot stove, but it felt cold, instead of hot. A light formed at the bottom of her vision, bright and brilliant. She could hear her own heart, hammering in her chest with the speed and irregularity of an amateur musician's first drum solo.

"Four…"

_Five… _She cringed, waiting for something to happen, but all she felt was a gust of wind, an icy blast, as frigid and intense as an arctic storm.

"Goodbye, Captain." Loki's voice was in her ear, and she opened her eyes to see everything be swallowed by a wall of blue fire.

The last thing she remembered was the soldier reaching out for her, his face filled with a strange sort of panic. Then, everything went dark.


	4. The Awakening

_Unngh… Something hurts… No… Everything hurts… Shit… It feels like I got hit by a car… I'm tired… My body's so heavy… _

Havilah blinked, sleepily, squinting at the sudden bright light that was flooding her eyes. The room spun, and she was suddenly flooded with pain. Intense and sharp, it crashed down upon her, tidal waves of agony cutting through her body like swords. It was in her chest, on her arms, her shoulders, her stomach, all over her. It clawed at her body, ripping through her insides, and she whimpered, wishing, praying, hoping for death to come, to free her from this prison of flesh and pain.

She stayed like that, still and weak, for what seemed like hours, until she came to terms with the pain she was feeling. With a deep breath, Havilah sat up, moving gingerly and wincing as her body screamed in protest.

"Uhhg…" she lifted a hand to move her hair out of her eyes, her limbs heavy and difficult to move. She licked her chapped lips, her tongue sticking to them briefly as she did so.

_I'm dehydrated, _she realized, running her index finger over the cracked, rough skin of her mouth. _How long have I been asleep? And why does my neck hurt so badly?_

She knew she couldn't answer the first question, so she settled for the second one; with a cautious hand, she began to probe the skin at the base of her neck, wincing at the sharp tug she felt. She moved upwards, and the pain grew more intense, making her grit her teeth to hold back the whimper that threatened to erupt from her. Her hand finally found the source of her discomfort, and she cried out in shock, pulling her hand away.

_There's… There's something stuck in my neck! _She gazed at her palm, eyes widening at the smear of blood that coated it. _Something sharp…_

She glanced about the room, confused, taking in the plain white walls and concrete floor of the space. It was a small chamber, about ten square feet, and it had no windows, only a heavy, metal door. Avi stood up and looked down at the chair she had been sitting in, touching its hard steel surface. It looked to be the type of chair that would sit in an office, sturdy and unyielding.

_Where am I? _She wondered, sitting back down. Moving around made her feel sick, and she didn't want to hurl in a place she didn't know.

That would be rude.

The heavy door to the room opened, and she jumped slightly, her hand flying to her throat instinctively when she accidentally jostled the injury.

A tall man stood in the doorway, his light brown hair sheared close to his head, his eyes cold. He said nothing, simply crossing towards her, holding something in his hand. Avi felt her breath catch, and she tensed up when he finally stopped by her side. He crouched down, his expression stony, and reached for her face. Havilah flinched, but he held her still, his eyes moving up and down her body.

_What is he doing? _She trembled inwardly, horribly violent images flashing through her mind.

The man pulled something out from behind him, and it glinted under the fluorescent lights of the room. He moved the tool closer to Havilah's neck, and she froze, waiting for something to happen. With a quick, precise movement, he jabbed it into Avi's flesh, causing her to give out a yelp of pain. He dropped something on the floor and raised the tool again. Down it went, into her wounds, making her bite her cheek to keep from letting out any more noise.

_I won't give him the satisfaction_, she decided, attempting to keep her pride intact.

Two more times, the man cut into her, each one worst than the last. He stopped, putting down the bloody instrument, and picking up something else, giving Havilah time to look at what he had put on the floor.

_Pieces of glass… Bits of metal… Was that what was stuck in my neck?_

She looked back up at the man, meeting his eyes. She found no emotion, and she shivered. He dabbed at her neck with something, and Avi knew it to be disinfectant, judging by the sharp, chemical odor. It stung, but she knew it was nothing compared to what she had experienced earlier. The man taped a patch of gauze to her neck, before standing up and exiting the room, leaving her alone, once gain.

She was conflicted, unsure as to whether she was disappointed in being alone, or relieved that the man had left, his frightening aura gone from the room. Avi sighed and looked down at her feet, bare and dirty. The big toe on her right foot was cut open, and she knew there was a piece of glass embedded somewhere within her heel.

_Where are my shoes? _She mused, attempting to retrace her steps. _And what happened to my dress? I remember the gala, but…_

She furrowed her brow, her mind empty of explanations. It was like hitting a wall. She knew something had happened, but she wasn't quite sure what. She was searching for a memory, just out of reach, and finding nothing. It was as if she knew what she wanted to say, but didn't have the words to articulate it.

_Something happened… Something bad… But what? What happened to my friends? To Miss Hartwell?_

She continued to search for an answer, barely noticing the person entering the room. It wasn't until she heard his footsteps that she looked up, blinking in confusion. The man's face swam before her eyes, pale and sharp. She knew him! He was-

He smirked, interrupting her thoughts.

"You seem to be a bit confused…" he told her, his voice sweet.

Havilah closed her eyes, and it all came back to her, crashing over her, pulling her down, down into a dark place, cutting at her heart and breaking her into pieces.

"No…" she could feel dampness on her face, and she knew she was crying. "Naomi…"

She shook, her body wracked with sobs as she mourned for her friend. The wound on her heart had been reopened, and she could feel herself falling apart, ripping at the seams.

_I know what happened…_

Avi sniffed, rubbing a hand across her eyes and taking a deep breath, pulling herself together.

_I won't let him see me cry. _She told herself, biting her lip. She tasted blood, salty and warm.

"Why am I here?" She asked him, avoiding his gaze.

"You're my 'trump card'," the man- Loki, she reminded herself- explained. "As long as I hold your life in my hands, my enemies will hesitate."

"Enemies?"

"A man like me has many." He laughed, the sound turning Havilah's stomach.

"I'm… A hostage?" She asked, her voice faint.

"Yes."

"What will you do with me?"

"You are my prisoner," Loki explained, leaning forward and lifting her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "You will follow my orders without question."

"And if I don't?" Havilah swatted his hand away, frowning. She felt dirty where he touched her, tainted.

"You die. It's as simple as that, Miss Sverrir." He stood up, turning his back on her and shrugging, as if it was all self-explanatory. She watched him exit the room, his steps quick. He had left the door open, she realized, as an invitation for her to follow him. She got up and followed, running down the hall after him, ignoring the pain she felt.

* * *

The halls were as blank as the room Avi had been held in, completely white, without any windows leading to the outside. Every once in a while, she would see a sign fixed to the wall, stating things such as "Kitchen" or "Bathroom- Men's" or "Supplies". She continued to trail after Loki, glancing around in confusion as she did so. They turned down a large, clean hallway, making their way towards a large door. Havilah read the label, "Main Laboratory", and furrowed her brows. The building was cold, and the lights constantly flickered, causing shadows to dance on the walls, dark and eerie.

"What's wrong with the electricity?" Avi asked him, hurrying up so as to fall in step with him. His legs were longer than hers, so she was forced to half-run, half-walk as she tried to keep up, a rather difficult action in her condition.

"There's nothing wrong with it," Loki told her, stopping at the door that led to the lab and pausing briefly, waiting for her to catch up. "We just have too much."

"Too much? I don't-"

"We have too much power, and you have too many questions," he snapped, entering the pristine, bustling room. "Do yourself a favor and keep your thoughts to yourself."

Avi nodded, chewing on her thumbnail nervously. Satisfied with her silence, Loki opened the door and ushered her inside.

The space was huge, almost twice as large as her house, with several steel ramps and catwalks leading up to suspended floors. There were still no windows, but the large floodlights on the ceiling illuminated everything. Everything was made of metal or glass, solid and well-built, with modern tools and fixtures. She looked into a connected chamber and found even more desks, with dozens of personnel scrambling to and fro, chattering as they compared notes and sheets of data. The lights in the lab were hooked up to a generator, she realized, suddenly wondering if that helped keep them from malfunctioning.

"Follow me." Loki commanded her, not even looking back to check on her. She hurried up, the deep, aching feeling of the wounds on her feet throbbing as they rushed towards an older man. "Doctor Selvig, this is Havilah Sverrir. She will be your assistant from now on."

The man's hair was a greyish blond, thinning in such away that his widow's peak became pronounced. He was about average height, but solidly-made (Avi's way of saying he was a bit thick around the middle), and with glittering, sharp eyes that seemed to understand things far beyond the teenager's understanding.

"Yes, yes," he smiled at both of them, nodding cheerfully. "Thank you, Loki. This is just what I need!"

"Good. Carry on with your work, Doctor." He left, his boots clicking against the clean laboratory floor.

Avi felt her stomach clench from nerves, and she looked towards Selvig cautiously.

_He may look like a nice man, but you can't trust anybody here. Nobody. _She reminded herself of this, biting the inside of her cheek as she waited for the doctor to speak.

"You look like you've been to Hell and back," Selvig broke the silence, smiling good-naturedly. "Did Loki give you much trouble?"

"Um…" Avi scratched her head, glancing around awkwardly in an attempt to avoid meeting the pair of greyish-blue eyes that seemed to look right into her heart. "I- I fought him…"

"So did I," he told her, turning back to the desk he stood at and beginning to rummage through a pile of creased and wrinkled papers. "But he opened my eyes. What we are working on is more than knowledge… It's truth."

He spoke the words as if he had said them many times before, with an eerie reverence.

"What truth?" Avi inquired, tilting her head to the side and looking at him quizzically.

"You will learn, Havilah. Now, I need you to do something for me." His eyes still on the papers he held, her gestured towards a stainless steel table in the middle of the room. It was covered in paper, just as messy as Selvig's workstation. "There should be some blueprints on that table. Fetch them for me, please."

Havilah complied, her mind bursting with questions as she began collecting the sheets of high-quality paper, covered with sketches and notes.

_Maybe… _She looked around nervously, making sure that nobody was watching her, before looking at the plans. _Maybe I can find out what they're doing? What this 'truth' is?_

"The 'Tesseract'?" She whispered, wondering why the word felt so familiar. It seemed to her that she had heard it a long time ago, as if in some sort of dream. She didn't know what it was then, nor did she now, but something about it made her mind itch, as if she was looking for a word but couldn't quite think of it. She shook her head, looking back down at the paper.

_A power source. _She understood, the crudely drawn diagrams and quickly scrawled labels coming together. _That's what they're making._

"Havilah?" Doctor Selvig called out to her from the other side of the lab, making her look up with fright. "Are you having trouble finding them?"

"N- no! I've got them!" she began rolling up the sheets, panicking slightly. "It just took me a bit!"

_The Tesseract, _she repeated inwardly as she returned to the scientist's side. _The Tesseract… I can't forget this. _

* * *

Work didn't end soon enough, and by the time Selvig let her go, Avi would have gladly fallen asleep on the floor. She had done her best to follow the doctor's commands, but her exhausted and injured body screamed in protest whenever she moved, making it difficult to dash around the lab at the speed Selvig expected her to. She apologized multiple times, constantly telling him that she would do much better "next time". He always laughed kindly, reassuring her that he wasn't angry and that she was obviously doing the best she could.

Havilah checked in with Loki before bed, her body so weak that she needed to lean against the wall in order to stand up straight.

"What now?" She asked him, her voice slightly hoarse.

"You can use the women's bathroom to clean yourself up before you sleep," Loki told her, flipping through a book. "Your room is connected to mine, so don't even bother trying to find a way out. I'll know."

"I wouldn't dream of it…" Avi grumbled, muttering the words under her breath as she began to march off.

"How you still have the audacity to say such a thing after all this…" Loki shook his head, finally looking up, his green eyes meeting hers. "It astounds me…"

Havilah paused, searching for something snarky to say, but her mind failed her. She sighed, defeated, turning away from him to keep him from seeing her expression. Loki gave her a satisfied grin, before looking back to what he was reading.

"Good night, Miss Sverrir." He chuckled as Avi ran off, her cheeks flushed in anger.

When she entered the bathroom, Havilah was surprised to see it empty. It wasn't an exceptionally large bathroom, but it was very clean, with a supply of fresh towels and various sorts of products used in showering. Avi sighed in relief, the silence of the room soothing, especially when compared to the bustling lab. She slipped out of her dress, sadly surveying the damage. It was completely ruined, covered in muck and stained with blood, large rips in the fabric, with entire chunks of the dress missing. Avi ran her fingers over the tattered remains of the gown, her naked body prickling with goosebumps as the cold air hit her bare skin. She shivered from the chill, and quickly shoved the dress out of her sight.

_Who knew that such a magical night would end with so much ruin? _She thought to herself, a bitter taste rising up in her throat. She turned away from the dress and looked in the mirror.

She muffled her scream of shock by stuffing her hand in her mouth as she stared at herself.

"Oh… Oh, my God." She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she attempted to swallow her fear and pain. Her entire body was a collage of blue and purple bruises, the dark colors blooming across her skin like dark, brooding flowers. Scratches covered her back and arms, her left shoulder completely crusted with dried blood. One of her eyes was swelling up slightly, and she knew it would be completely blue by morning.

Avi looked away, avoiding her own reflection as she entered the shower stall and pulled the heavy, plastic curtain over the doorway. With a shaking hand, she turned on the hot water and closed her eyes. Naomi's body, limp and broken, flashed before her eyes, and Havilah began to weep, the events of the past day crashing over her and burying her in sorrow.

"No," she whimpered, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor, her body shaking sobs. "Stop it…"

A tiny whirlpool of blood and dirt formed near the drain as the scalding hot water washed away the grime that coated her skin.

But nothing could wash away the pain and grief she felt.


	5. In His Hands

Havilah awakened with a start, her body bathed in a sheen of sweat. Her nightmare had been so vivid, she thought, her heart still racing as she groped around blindly for the hairband that was on her nightstand.

"Where is-" she leaned over more, frustrated at how her day was starting. "Ah! Shit!"

She tumbled off the bed, hitting the icy cold concrete with a slap and gasping at the impact. Closing her eyes, she stayed on the ground for a moment, waiting for her bruised and battered body to stop aching.

_It's not a nightmare… _Havilah sighed, throwing an arm over her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright fluorescent lights. _Loki probably turned these on to wake me up…_

She groaned, flopping about weakly for a moment before sitting up and piling the thin comforter she had been given back onto the bed. There was most likely a long day ahead of her, and she knew this.

She had worn her bra to bed, as that (and her briefs) had been the only parts of her outfit to survive, and the morning air was chilly enough to make her hair stand on end. Warily peeking out into the hall, Avi was relieved to find a few articles of clothing in front of her door: a pair of oversized sweatpants and an incredibly baggy, red sweatshirt that had the name of some random German university printed across the breast. She pulled them on, feeling even tinier than usual in them, and frowned, stepping into the hallway cautiously and attempting to remember the way back to the lab.

_This place is like a maze, _she thought to herself, the numerous identical hallways making her feel disoriented and lost. _Where the hell is everything?_

She could hear faint voices in one direction, and the clattering of metal in another, making her head spin like the teacup ride at the local zoo near her home. There were too many halls, too many rooms, too many places! Avi sighed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she paused to think back on the previous evening.

"Good morning, Havilah!" She heard Doctor Selvig's voice behind her, and she turned, slightly surprised at his sudden appearance.

"Doctor Selvig! I- I don't know where the lab is…" Avi bit her thumbnail again, nervous.

"I assumed as much," the man smiled, politely passing her a thermos of coffee and a bagel. "I also thought you would be hungry."

Havilah blinked in astonishment, his kindness surprising her. She reached for the food slowly, as if she was afraid he'd suddenly yank it away from her and laugh, like a young boy teasing an animal. He didn't move, however, and simply chuckled at the sound of Avi's stomach grumbling. She realized that she hadn't eaten in almost two days, and when the food was finally in her hands, she immediately began to wolf down the food, her stomach cramping up at the sudden arrival of carbohydrates and sugars.

"Mmf…" she swallowed the last bite and took a swig of the coffee, letting the bitter liquid warm her body as she followed Selvig down the hall, towards the entrance to the lab. He pushed open the door, gesturing for her to follow him.

"Before I forget… Loki's going to talk to you today," He told her, casually, unaware of the look of abject horror that crossed Havilah's features, like a sudden bunch of clouds covering a bright blue sky. "Something about work… I can't really remember. The older I get, the more things slip my mind."

"W- where do I go? To talk to him, I mean…" Avi scratched at the faded logo printed upon the sweatpants she wore, watching a small flake of blue peel away from the thick cotton and fall to the floor.

"He should be here any minute," Selvig responded, picking up his ever-present clipboard and flipping through the pages pinched between the metal and wood. His thick brows furrowed momentarily as he noticed something and reached blindly for a pencil with his free hand. Sighing, Avi plucked one from the holder that sat on his desk, pressing it into the doctor's hands. "Ah, thank you, Havilah."

She shrugged, knowing that he wouldn't bother looking up at her. They stood in silence for a bit, the sounds of the lab fading away as Avi's senses began to sharpen, her sleepiness evaporating as the caffeine began to work its way into her bloodstream, making the tips of her fingers tingle with a sudden energy.

"Miss Sverrir," a hand touched her shoulder, its chill cutting all the way through the thick fabric of her sweatshirt and piercing her skin like an icy blade in the brief second it was in contact with her body. "I hope you're ready for work."

"I hope so, too." Avi muttered, bracing herself as she turned to face Loki.

"It's rude to avoid eye contact." Loki remarked, shifting his weight slightly. A flash of brown caught Havilah's eye, the fleeting shape familiar and comforting.

_Is that- _

"My sketchbook!" She cried out, reaching for it without thinking, her hands itching to hold the worn, paint-spotted book and clutch it to her chest. She longed to fan the pages and inhale the scent of ink and graphite, to trace the light, brown rings that stained the pages from when she left mugs of tea or cocoa on the paper by accident. A deep, burning desire to hold the book to her body and never let go overtook her, but Loki pulled it away from her reach, lifting it and beginning to thumb through the pages casually.

"Give it back!" Havilah demanded, her face reddening as the god ventured deeper into the sketchbook, his gaze containing a strange sort of interest. "You can't just look through people's stuff without asking!"

"What if it's my stuff?" He asked, still looking at the drawings. "After all, you're technically mine now. Therefore, whatever you have with you is mine as well."

"_I _don't belong to anybody, let alone _you_."

"Such naïveté," he purred, finally looking up from the pages and into her eyes. "Oh, how wonderful it will be to chip away at your innocence."

"Just give me back my sketchbook…" Havilah knew she was beginning to sound pathetic, and she hated it. "Please, just give it back to me…"

"Why? What's so important about these drawings?"

She clamped her mouth shut, her eyes hard and unyielding. Loki glanced down towards her fists, as he had already discovered that they were a wonderful clue as to what she was thinking, and noticed that they were tightly clenched. He pursed his lips briefly, before waving Selvig towards him.

"From now on, Miss Sverrir will be in charge of the blueprints," he told his colleague. "She will copy them in such a way that they become legible, and write the captions left by our engineers who, as the Gods know well, have no artistic talent whatsoever. Get her the supplies she needs and-"

"I'm not going to-" Havilah protested, interrupting Loki mid-sentence. She stopped, however, when the god shot her a withering glance, communicating without words:

_Your life is in my hands. Do you _truly _wish to disobey me?_

He nodded at her, as if affirming what she had just realized.

"As I was saying," he continued, turning back to Selvig. "Get her all the supplies she needs, her own workspace, and the first set of blueprints."

"_First _set?" Havilah squeaked, her eyes widening. "How many sets are there?"

"Four." The god grinned, menacingly, before snapping the sketchbook shut and tucking it under his arm. "Have fun, Miss Sverrir."

He strolled off, his boots clacking against the floor as he moved, the sound sharp and grating.

Havilah stared down at the floor, imagining Loki's smug, stupid face etched into the linoleum. Lifting her bare foot, she stamped on the floor and began to grind her foot into it, muttering angrily.

"Fucker… What an ass… 'Oh, it's _mine _now, _Miss Sverrir_,'" she mimicked him, still attacking the floor. "Douche… My goddamn sketchbook… What's he gonna do with 'em, huh? Use them as toilet paper to wipe his spoiled ass? Or maybe he'll burn them? Oh, I hope _he _lights on fire, too…"

"Here you go, Havilah," Selvig spoke, making her look up from the scene she was playing out in her mind. "Rulers, a compass, pencils, pens, paper…. Is there anything else you need to do this?"

"Not really…" she sighed, resigned to her fate. "A sharpener would be nice, though."

"I'll go get one." The doctor departed, leaving Avi to her own devices. The girl let out a small groan, settling into the chair that sat near her brand-new desk.

_Try to think positive, Avi, _she told herself, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her beating heart. _You'll be able to look at the plans for as long as you want, right? Plus, if you do it slowly, you could _delay _the end of the world as you know it! That's good. I think._

Picking up the pencils one by one and examining their points, she readied herself to begin. She twirled the compass experimentally, frowning at the clumsy circle that appeared on the paper.

_Ugh, I always hated these things. They're so hard to maneuver… _

She continued to spin the tool until she found the shapes satisfactory, and gently placed the apparatus back onto the hard surface of the table. Picking up a new sheet of paper and flattening it, she began to work, her eyes flitting between the original plans and her own project. It felt nice to have a pencil in her hands again, and the faint sound of the tip scratching against the paper soothed her, the noise familiar and comforting.

_Breathe in… _She lay a sweeping line down on the parchment, her arm arcing across the sheet with a flourish, as if she was a small child waving a wand. _Breathe out…_

She added a second line, perpendicular to the previous one.

_Breathe in…_

_Breathe o-_

The image flashed before her eyes again, unbidden and unwelcome. Naomi's hazel eyes were open wide, yet staring at nothing. Blood trickled from her full lips, a stream of crimson. Her hair, dark and tangled, was damp with mud and gore. Avi bit her lip, shaking her head in an attempt to banish the gruesome image from her mind.

_Don't think about it, _she commanded herself, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to keep from falling apart. _Naomi wanted you to live. You have to keep your promise, Avi. For Naomi._

She used her sleeve to wipe at her damp eyes, swallowing her despair like a cup of bitter cough syrup, and turned her gaze back to her work.

_Focus on your pencil. Focus on your pencil, and everything will be alright._


	6. The Battle Plan

Tapping his foot on the hard, metal floor of the helecarrier's main room, the sharp rap of his shoe hitting the ground lost amidst the other noises of the ship, Steve gazed out the window anxiously. A lone bird wheeled around in the bright, blue sky, diving and swooping playfully, with the same joyful curiosity as a child testing out a shiny, new bike. He closed his eyes, trying to push away the flood of thoughts that pressed down upon his mind, buzzing around his head like bees.

"You know it's not your fault, right?" Bruce had appeared behind him, his sudden arrival making Steve jump in surprise, his eyes flying open as he spun around to face the scientist.

"What?" Steve asked, slightly confused. Bruce sat down next to him, settling into one of the numerous chairs that littered the room.

"It's obvious that you're beating yourself up about the whole thing," he explained, his eyes warm and comforting. "About the girl."

Steve blinked, taken aback by the doctor's blunt way of addressing the situation. He scratched his head lightly, leaning back and looking out the window as he attempted to gather the words he needed to express his thoughts.

"I just…" he began to speak, watching the carefree bird fly past the helecarrier, the bright sun shining through its wings, as if they were made of glass. "I hate the fact that I hesitated. I hesitated, and that girl- that _kid_\- got taken. She's only a kid, Doctor Banner. I let a kid get kidnapped right in front of me. God, she must be scared out of her mind. I mean, she was probably only fifteen or sixteen…"

"Seventeen." Director Fury's voice boomed across the space, echoing as it bounced of the steel walls. "Just a bit small for her age."

A photograph landed on the table where the two men sat, its shiny, laminated surface reflecting the warm afternoon sunlight as the director dropped it. Steve picked it up, his forehead wrinkling as he stared at the picture, the sharp corners digging into the pads of his fingers. The girl it depicted was smiling, her skinny arms wrapped around a large Saint Bernard. She looked happy, and it dawned upon Steve that he had only seen her scared and sorrowful, her expression worlds away from the one that stared up at him.

"Not to be rude, sir, but where did you get this?" He asked, looking up at the director in confusion. "This is the girl who was taken hostage…"

"Her parents sent it to us." Fury said, crossing over to the large meeting table where Steve and Bruce were situated, Thor's heavy footsteps following close behind. "The girl's name is Havilah Sverrir. It's a good thing you two are already here, seeing as I'm calling a meeting right now."

Perfectly on time, almost as if he had been waiting for a cue of some sort, Tony sauntered in, Natasha trailing behind him, an annoyed look on her face.

"All right!" Tony clapped his hands, flopping into a chair and grinning. "What're we gonna do today, gang? Anything interesting? Oh, don't bother answering. We all know it's gonna be boring."

Director Fury's scowl deepened, as if gravity itself had decided to wage war on his mouth.

"Sit down and be quiet," he snapped at the billionaire. "I don't give a fuck about what you think of this meeting. There's a missing girl, a rogue agent, and a threat of world domination by a guy wearing a goat crown, and we have to deal with all of it before everything goes to shit."

"Okay, I get it," Tony sighed, lacing his fingers behind his head as he leaned back casually, a small, amused smile alighting on his lips. "I have to take this 'seriously'."

"Why was she taken, though?" Bruce inquired, ignoring Tony's faint grumbling. "She's just a student, right?"

"Yes. And that's the reason we can't launch an attack," Fury growled, beginning to pace across the platform as he spoke. "Even if we knew where Loki's base was, we wouldn't be able to attack for fear of harming nearby civilians."

"Wait, wait, wait." Lifting his hand, Tony shook his head. "I thought this was for the 'greater good' or something. What happened to that whole 'one lost life is worth the prevention of a thousand deaths' thing? What changed?"

Director Fury pursed his lips, obviously restraining himself. He paused, looking away from the group as he gathered his thoughts.

"Her father," he explained, turning back to the group. "Is Uther Sverrir. I worked alongside him when I was in the Armed Forces. He saved my life more than once, and I his. Even after all these years, we're still in contact, and he called me the second he saw the news report on the incident. I remember how happy he was when he became a father. Being his friend, I could never turn my back on him when he needs me. And he needs me now. Both he, and his daughter."

"So, you're saying you've got a soft spot for this dude and his kid?" Tony asked, his tone incredulous. "That you, Nick Fury, feel like you've got a duty to help him and his family?"

The director didn't respond, his face grave. Tony raised his eyebrows, before turning towards the others.

"I'm not saying we should let this girl die, but I'm not saying it's our duty to save her, either. I don't really care what we do about this, as long as the Earth doesn't end up exploding or something." He shrugged, letting the others mull it over.

"I guess…" Bruce rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "I guess it would be best to wait for his next move, right? I mean, we don't know what he has planned…"

"Yes, but he might also take advantage of our hesitation." Natasha broke in for the first time, tucking a strand of her fiery hair behind her ear as she considered the situation. "The slightest hesitation could mean the death of a hundred civilians. Do we really want to take this chance? What makes you think he hasn't already prepared for the attack? "

"The iridium!" Bruce recalled, his voice full of excitement, as if he had just remembered something incredibly important. "Loki can't make his move without the iridium!"

"But he already has it." Natasha pointed out.

"Oh!" Tony sat up straight, pointing at Bruce with a broad grin, their minds on the same track. "Iridium is a stabilizing agent! Loki needs it to ensure that the cube's portal doesn't collapse in on itself the way it did at S.H.I.E.L.D. It can conduct the Tesseract's energy in such a way that it doesn't overpower the devices they're using. Plus, iridium is incredibly non-corrosive! It wouldn't break down because of-"

"He'd need to break through the Coulomb Barrier first," Bruce chimed in, nodding in agreement at Tony's statements. "So, he'd need to heat the cube to a hundred-and-twenty Kelvin before it could be used properly-"

"Not unless Selvig found a way to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect."

"But that would mean he'd be able to achieve Heavy Ion Fusion at any reactor on the planet."

"Right, right." Tony agreed, smiling happily, as if he was a child who'd gotten the perfect Christmas present. "_God_, it feels good to have someone who speaks English."

"Wait, what?" Steve stared at them, utterly confused. "What just happened? Because that's not what I saw."

"Doesn't matter." Brushing the super-soldier off, Tony crossed to Bruce and slapped him on the back. "It's gonna be great working with you, Doctor Banner. Big fan of your work on anti-electron collisions. Seriously. Also, gotta love that whole big, green rage-monster thing you've got going."

"Thanks…" Bruce muttered, staring down at the floor awkwardly.

"Let's stay on track, guys." Steve broke in again, waving his hand slightly as he vied for their attention. "We have a ton of stuff to worry about. One of them being the safety of a kidnapped girl, as well as the safety of our _entire world." _

"Jeez, lighten up, will you?" Tony sat back down, rolling his eyes. "We have time."

"Not really. Now, let's get back on track," Steve looked around the table, noting the director's silence. He coughed lightly, bringing the attention back to the matter at hand. "What's our plan?"

"Finding out where Loki is." Thor said, his deep voice rumbling as he stepped forward, ready to enter the conversation.

"Speaking of Loki… Do you think he's going to hurt… Havilah?"

Thor bristled, standing up straight as he readied himself to defend his brother. As large as Steve was, Thor towered over him, his face dark with anger. Obviously, a nerve had just been touched.

"Loki won't hurt her," he growled, glaring at Steve. "I know for a fact that my real brother is still in him! His mind isn't right currently! Once we locate him and bring him back to Asgard, he shall return to his senses!"

"I don't know about that, big guy…" Shaking his head slightly, Tony clicked his tongue. Steve kicked his leg, frowning at him as he did so.

"It's true." Thor replied, adamant. He turned around and made his way towards the door, avoiding the looks the others were shooting his way as he passed them, his blond hair reflecting the sunlight as he moved across the platform.

"It's true." He repeated, as if reassuring himself, before closing the door behind him.


	7. For His Enjoyment

Loki sat in his makeshift room, absentmindedly thumbing through Havilah's sketchbook. The thick, brown cover was covered with small doodles, some with little bubbles of text or entire scenes within neat, little boxes. He ran his finger over one, reading the words, curious.

_This is my sketchbook! _A tiny figure called out, pointing at the reader with an irritated look. _Don't look unless you have my permission, or I'll set my dog on you!_

The miniature Havilah's other hand was directed at a large, shaggy dog, its tail thumping wildly against the small line suggesting a floor, as large globs of drool dripped out of its mouth. A tiny mouse-like creature sat on the canine's head, with an arrow pointing to it, labeled _Oosa_. The thumb-sized girl reappeared on the first page, glaring at him with her arms crossed.

_Read at your own risk. _She intoned, frowning. Loki opened the book and began to turn the pages, watching the sketches flip by, slowly at first, then faster and faster, as he fanned them out. One after another, detailed pictures of people, animals, and landscapes filled his sight. A woman stood before a stove, her hair slightly mussed, as she stirred the contents of a pot. A young boy popped up, holding up the same rodent that had been featured on the cover, beaming as he did so. An older man sat in an armchair, a large burn covering his left hand as he turned a newspaper page. Bit by bit, Loki began to get an idea of Havilah's life.

He reached the last picture, a blank space gracing the pages just beyond, seeming sad and lonely compared to its pencil-smudged brothers, and closed the book gently, placing it on the table beside his bed.

_Why am I disappointed? _He wondered, standing up and dusting off his knees. _It's not like I was expecting anything, right?_

It was a blatant lie, false and bitter in his mouth. Somewhere, deep within him, he had wanted to feel an emotion of some sort. He had wanted the drawings to inspire some sort of feeling within him, to wipe the grey, cold numbness he felt. Even sadness would be preferable to the emptiness he felt inside. The drawings had done nothing but reminded him of that, their warm, loving depictions seeming just out of reach, unattainable and perfect. Like tiny snapshots of happiness, they provided a window into the life of that cold, silent girl that avoided his eyes and acted as if his very touch burned her.

With a quiet sigh, he left his room and headed back towards the lab.

* * *

Doctor Selvig was busy in the Blue Room, where the Tesseract was kept, and Loki didn't want to disturb his work. He glanced around, looking for something to occupy his attention. A variety of machines were moving, processing different bits of information. Scientists chatted with one another, moving around the space as they spoke. In the midst of the chaotic order, Havilah sat at her desk, chewing on the cap of her pen and tapping for foot incessantly as she worked. Glancing up quickly, her eyes met his, and she quickly ducked her head, avoiding his gaze. She dropped the mutilated pen and gathered the diagrams around her, as if she was trying to use them to block out the world.

Loki walked over to her desk, hoping she would provide some sort of amusement, and straddled the chair opposite her, his long legs almost touching her own feet. She moved them away, tucking them under the chair on which she sat, and wrinkled her nose in distaste, as if his very presence disgusted her. Leaning forward, he stared at her, smirking at the way she fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable. Avi picked up a sharpener, jabbing a pencil into it with an unnecessary amount of force, taking great care to keep herself from meeting Loki's eyes.

He watched her work for a bit, taking in the way she slapped a ruler down on the table and measured a pair of lines, her pencil practically ripping through the paper from the pressure. On impulse, Loki reached out and pinched a lock of her hair between his thumb and index finger, examining it. He felt her stiffen at his touch, as if her muscles had turned to stone.

"Your hair is incredibly tangled." He said, smiling to himself when she moved away from him, her hair falling from his grip as she sat up and tucked it into the collar of her shirt, frowning.

"Do you not like being touched?" Loki inquired, cupping his chin in his hand as he watched her work, silent and angry.

"I don't mind being touched," she began, her voice incredibly hostile as she practically spat at him. "Just not by _you_."

Loki was surprised at the way she reacted, as he had been expecting her to simply shrink away from him, like a shy animal. He couldn't think of anything to say, and simply settled for following the path of her pencil. They sat like that for a bit, an almost visible aura of anger coming off of Avi's skin, like the shimmering waves that emanate from concrete on a hot day.

Then, Loki poked her cheek, vaguely curious at how she would respond. With a quick, sharp movement, she slapped his hand away, looking straight into his eyes and baring her teeth.

"Stop it." She growled, making Loki smirk.

_Looks like she kept her claws, after all… _He thought to himself. _It's actually quite fun to toy with her. She reacts differently than most would in her position… Quite intriguing, honestly. I don't exactly know what to expect._

He could hear footsteps, and sensed Selvig's presence. Without looking away from his target, he greeted the scientist.

"Doctor Selvig," he began, grinning impishly. "How is the portal's progress?"

He blew a puff of air in Avi's direction, watching a few loose wisps of her hair fall into her eyes. She looked up again, pointing the pencil in the god's direction, her eyes hard.

"Look," she snarled at him, pointing towards the door with her free hand. "I can't exactly work with you poking and prodding me to get your daily dose of the giggles, so either you stop bugging me, or you leave, okay? Whichever you prefer."

"Well, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your work, now, would I?" He shrugged, standing up and gesturing for Selvig to follow him. Once they were out of earshot (and Avi's searing glare), Selvig pulled out a long, crumpled paper. In large, messy letters, he had written a long list.

"While we _are _making good progress, especially now that we have the iridium, there are still a few additional materials we need." He told Loki, showing him the paper.

"Will any of this involve the same kind of stunt I had to pull in Stuttgart?" Loki asked, cocking his thumb in Avi's direction. "Because I'm not exactly keen on having another one of _these_…"

"No, no," Selvig chuckled at the joke. "Most of it we can get during a supply run. Relatively basic things, that's all. I'd just like your authorization."

"Of course," he nodded, handing the list back to Selvig. "Feel free to purchase- or take- what you need. You can be in charge of the run."

"Thank you, Loki." With a polite nod and a bright smile, the scientist turned and hurried back to his station. He stopped briefly at Havilah's desk, asking her a quick question. She responded, her demeanor sweet and friendly, and Selvig jotted something on the list.

Loki watched with fascination as Avi grinned at the doctor, laughing at something he said, her attitude the complete opposite of what he had seen earlier.

_It's like she's a completely different person, _Loki thought, frowning. _I just don't understand it…_

* * *

**Hello! This is the first author's note in this series, and I feel bad for breaking up the smooth "non-note" layout of the story so far, but I have a bit to say. Ahem. Just- just getting my announcement voice ready. Please wait.**

**Okay, we're good. So, um, thanks for reading! I can't say that enough. Seriously.** **Thank you! **

**While I do have some of the story mapped out, it's a bit limited. I currently have plans going up until Chapter 9, but any feedback or suggestions would be incredibly helpful! So, please don't feel like you can't send me a review that's just a list of ideas you have or anything of the like. Just having little promptings from you guys would help me churn out the chapters faster, as I'd have less trouble getting past writing block.**

**So, yeah! Thanks for reading! Until next time...**


	8. Something You Can't Replace

_The landfill was immense, spreading as far as Havilah could see, the towering piles of trash blocking out her surroundings, until all she could see was the dark, empty sky. She paused, examining one of the mountains of debris. A broken ceramic heart, a rusted necklace, a torn-up book… One by one, she ran her fingers over the discarded objects, searching for some kind of meaning within them._

They're memories…_ She realized, picking up and cradling a faded porcelain doll in her arms, tracing the gaping hole in the side of its head. _Memories and dreams...

_Gently placing the doll back on the heap, she continued on, the colors of the world faded and blurry, like a badly exposed photograph. Something crunched beneath her feet, and she stopped to look down at the ground. Tiny bits of glass, sparkling like fallen bits of starlight, lay underfoot, gleaming in the otherworldly light of the pitch-black sky. It was the remains of a delicate, glass flower, its form familiar. She picked one of the shards up, ignoring the sting of it cutting into the pad of her index finger. A drop of blood emerged from the laceration, bright and red, coating the fragment with its deep color, making it glitter like a tiny ruby._

_Havilah glanced around, searching for more flowers, and spotted a flash of pink amongst one of the many stacks of trash. She dashed forward, discarding the bloody fragment as she ran, and began to dig through the pile. Instead of the scent of garbage, she could smell that familiar perfume, a mixture of rose and lavender, and her search became more desperate. Her fingers brushed the cool satin, and she pulled it out from beneath the mound, shaking._

_"__Naomi!" she called out, eager. "Oh, Naomi! I found y-"_

_The dress, finally unearthed, fell onto her lap, empty. That sweet flowery scent had disappeared, replaced by the sickening smell of congealed blood. The dress was empty._

_"__Naomi…" she whispered, hugging the dress to her as she trembled. "Where are you? Why did you leave me?"_

_She stood, letting the gown fall to the ground as she looked around, desperate._

"Naomi!" Avi awoke with a start, still calling out for her friend, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. Her cry bounced off the walls briefly, echoing around the empty room. She slumped forward, burying her face in her hands. "Oh, god… Every night… _Every_ _fucking night…"_

In the distance, she could hear the lab's machines fire up, as the scientists began their day, her cue to get ready. Reluctantly, Avi slid out of bed, the chilly concrete floor making her toes curl.

_I have that same dream every night, _she sighed to herself as she dressed, putting her hair in the best braid she could manage and padding towards the women's bathroom. _And every morning I wake up crying._

She wiped her eyes, sniffling as she did her best to pull herself together, before pushing open the doors to the washroom. Glancing into the mirror, she could see that most of her bruises had begun to yellow, a sign that they were healing. Her eye, no longer swollen, was still slightly tender when she poked it, but all in all, things were going alright. She almost laughed at how low her standards had sunk, where being able to walk around without feeling a throbbing pain in every part of her body meant she was "doing well". Where were the days where not having Oosa, her brother's hamster, chew up her textbooks meant the day was "good"?

_I want to go home… _She thought, her heart pinching at the thought of her family, as she exited the restroom and made her way towards the kitchen. On the counter, a lonely plate with half a blueberry muffin sat, waiting for her.

"Ah, yes," she rolled her eyes, picking up the meager excuse for a breakfast and heading out the door and down the hall leading to the laboratory. "Once again, a wonderfully nutritious and filling meal…"

Eating as she walked, Avi wondered how she could stall Loki's plans. She had been attempting to go as slowly as possible, but she had been forced to speed up when he had sat across from her the previous day. She scowled at the memory, her stomach churning when she recalled the way he had toyed with her, using her as a cheap source of amusement.

_No matter what he does, _she promised herself, wiping her crumb-covered hands on her thighs as she prepared to enter the lab. _I will stay cool, calm, and collected. I will not snap at him or show any sort of reaction to what he does. And, most importantly, I will _not _let him catch any sign of weakness._

"I can do this," she breathed, planting her feet and summoning up what confidence she could. "I'm Havilah _goddamn _Sverrir, and I come from a line of warriors! That stupid _drittsekk _doesn't know who he's messing with!"

Newfound courage in hand, she pushed open the door and entered the lab, heading directly to her desk. For the first time in a while, Avi was feeling like she could do something. That she _was _someone. If Loki thought he could use her as some silly little toy to pass away the time, he was wrong.

She was feeling good. Well, she was feeling good until she saw Loki, waiting next to her desk. Avi felt her heart plummet, sinking into her stomach.

_Oh, _she instinctively took a small step back, every nerve in her body screaming for her to run. _Oh, no. I would recite the Lord's Prayer if I knew it. _

"Good morning," Loki greeted her, leaning against the side of her desk. "How did you sleep?"

"Uh," she glanced around, confused. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well, uh… I slept… Okay, I guess?" She tugged on the end of her braid nervously, her eyes darting around as she assessed her surroundings.

"It didn't sound like it." Loki said, staring her straight in the eyes. "You were talking in your sleep again."

"A- again? What do you mean 'again'? Also... How do you know I talk in my sleep?"

"Our rooms are connected," he told her, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I can't help but hear your mumbling and… Well…"

"What?"

"You cry in your sleep. Did you know that?"

_Yes, _she thought to herself. _Of course I do, you piece of shit. Everything I know and love has been taken from me, and you expect me to sleep well?_

"Look," she took a deep breath, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. "I'm sorry if I'm keeping you awake… I'll just… Try harder not to cry, or… Whatever."

"It's not the crying that bothers me," Loki sighed. "It's the inevitable wondering and curiosity that comes from it. Who is this 'Naomi', anyways?"

Havilah swayed on her feet, dizzy. Just hearing him say it had hurt her, as if she had been socked in the gut. Something about having her name come out of _his _mouth felt wrong. It was wrong, immeasurably so, for him to say her name. He had killed her, after all. Avi wanted to pry open his mouth and reach down his throat, to rip out the word he had just uttered, to tear it from his very being. It wasn't right for him, this monstrous creature, to sully her friend's name. It was like someone mixing an entire bottle of cocktail bitters into a vat of marshmallow fluff, the end result sharp and sour, the sweet taste of the candy replaced by the dry, dusty sensation of the alcohol.

"She's… She was my friend…" She whispered, her voice breaking when she was forced to switch to the past tense. "She was my best friend…"

"Hm?" Loki tilted his head, a curious expression on his face. "What happened?"

_Breathe, _she reminded herself, shaking from the effort it took not to burst into tears. _You promised yourself you'd be strong, remember? _

She hugged herself in a desperate attempt to keep herself from ripping apart at the seams. It felt as if she was a child's blanket, ripped and frayed.

"You…" She took a deep, ragged breath, still clutching at her arms, as if she was afraid that her insides were about to fall onto the floor. "You… You killed… Her…"

"How? The only person I planned on killing was you- and maybe the head doctor. And we all know how that worked out."

"The police cars… You blasted them away. They-" She covered her mouth, shaking her head as her eyes began to tear up. "They fell… On top of her. She was crushed…"

He blinked, processing what Havilah had just told him. The thought of friends hadn't crossed his mind in quite some time, he realized, thinking back on Thor and his companions. Loki hadn't had friends in a long time, preferring the honesty and solitude of his own thoughts.

"What does it matter?" He finally said, shrugging. "You could always find a new 'best friend'. Friendship is fleeting, after all. She would have betrayed you in the end, anyw-"

_Smack! _His head whipped to the side, his cheek stinging from impact. Havilah had slapped him squarely across the face. Loki looked back down at her, surprised. Her hand was still in the air, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"You're heartless," she hissed, her entire body vibrating with anger. "_Heartless! _Friendship isn't something that can be thrown away! I've known Naomi since I was three! She was always there for me! And you-"

She was screaming now, simultaneously furious and despairing. She shoved at his chest with every ounce of strength she had, actually managing to make him fall backwards slightly, her face damp and red.

"_You think I can simply 'get a new friend'? _You're a heartless bastard! Friendship _can't _be replaced! It's love! Friendship isn't simply companionship! It's loving someone in such a way that they become a part of you! No matter what happens, until the day I die, I will _never _forget Naomi! I don't care that I wake up screaming, that she haunts my every waking moment! She is a part of me! Naomi was my best friend and, thanks to you, _I'll never get her back!_"

Before he could move, Avi spat at his feet and turned, running out of the lab. He watched the door close behind her, his mouth open in surprise. His cheek was hot, throbbing along with his pulse, and he reached up to touch it. Something inside of him awoke, its icy casing cracking open and letting it emerge. It was an emotion of some sort, one that he hadn't felt since his Fall.

_She made me… _He was in awe, gently brushing his fingers against the red skin of his cheek, his eyes wide. _She made me _feel. _I… I can feel something. What is it? I'm…_

_I'm surprised?_

* * *

_**drittsekk: **_**Norwegian insult that means something along the lines of "shitbag", "bastard", or "asshole". **


	9. The Darkness Within

**Trigger Warning!: This chapter contains some pretty shitty things including ****_anxiety_****, ****_panic attacks_****, ****_suicidal thoughts_****, and other related things.**

**If any of you feel that you can't read the chapter, but still want to know what happened, I will ****_gladly_**** send you a PM with an abridged, less graphic version. Sorry for any ****inconvenience****.**

* * *

When Avi reached her room, she was full-out sobbing, tears pouring down her face like a hot, salty waterfall. She could taste them, and her stomach began to churn as nausea began to kick in.

_He'll kill me! _She clutched her head, breathing heavily as pure terror began to overtake her. _He's going to kill me! I- I did it without thinking! He's going to torture me and kill me!_

Desperate, she searched the room for something to block the door with. Settling on her bed, she began to push it forward, towards the door that lead to the hall, tripping over her own feet as she moved. The second door, leading to Loki's bedroom, was open wide, gaping like a yawning mouth, as if it was waiting to swallow her up. There was nothing she could do about that, she realized, a pressure mounting in her chest as she began to panic. Fear welled up inside of her, until she felt like her chest was going to burst open. She could feel a scream building up inside of her, and she stuffed a balled-up fist in her mouth to muffle it. She could taste blood, slick and warm, and she knew she had bitten too hard.

_It's your fault, _a voice whispered in her ear, it's words harsh and sharp, like knives, cutting into her very soul. _It's your fault that Naomi's dead._

"No," she whimpered, clamping her hands over her ears in a desperate attempt to block out her surroundings. "No! No, no, no!"

_Stop denying it. You _know _it's your fault! You're weak! Weak and useless! _The voice was spitting out poisonous words, letting their meaning worm their way into Avi's heart, eating her from the inside out. _You run track, don't you? Why didn't you run faster? You _wanted _her to die, didn't you? Heartless! You're a hypocrite, calling _him _a murderer, even though you're the one to blame! It should've been _you _under that car, Havilah Sverrir. You're slow and stupid. It's your fault, your fault._

"Stop it… Please…" She could see the room melting around her, the walls dripping onto the floor as her surroundings began to twist and change, and she could smell hot metal and fresh blood. A thousand voices rang out in her mind, blaming her, cursing her, calling her names too foul to speak aloud, and she sobbed wildly, begging, pleading for it to stop. She could hear screams, the sound of breaking metal, cars crashing, the wailing of a crowd. Her head was pounding, and she felt her stomach cramp up, as if someone was grabbing her intestines and tying them into a tight knot.

_I can't breathe, _she realized, her head spinning as she stumbled to and fro, trying to stay on her feet. _My chest hurts… Oh, god, it all hurts… Am I dying?_

She fell to the floor, her legs unable to support her any longer, and curled up into a ball, pressing her cheek onto the cool concrete. Her chest was tightening, squeezing her heart like a vise, and she felt her breath speed up. Something inside her was almost relieved, the prospect of death welcoming and sweet. If she died, she wouldn't have to deal with this. If she died, she could be with Naomi, where she belonged. She wouldn't be alone anymore. Avi closed her eyes, letting the pain overtake her as she was swallowed by her own thoughts.

* * *

_"__Havilah?" _Someone was shaking her, their cold hands soothing her burning skin as they called out her name. _"Havilah? Wake up, Havilah..."_

Avi mumbled, trying to speak, to tell the person to leave her alone and let her die, but before she could get a single syllable past her lips, she vomited, coughing heavily afterwards. Her throat felt raw, painfully so, and every breath she took stung.

"Oh, Gods," she could hear the person sigh in relief. "Havilah?"

The nice, cool hands guided her into a sitting position and she opened her eyes, confused and half-asleep. A pale face swam before her, framed by dark hair, and she blinked sleepily, trying to remember where she had seen him before. Her brain, however, didn't comply, and she was met only with a partly-finished answer, as if there was some sort of blown fuse box in her mind.

"Here," the person murmured, their voice quiet. "We need to get you cleaned up. Let me just-"

Avi mumbled something, incoherent, before slumping forward again, her hair falling into her eyes and obscuring her already fuzzy vision. The stranger sighed, before gently scooping her up and standing, exiting the room. She leaned into them, her eyes closing as she felt herself slipping back to sleep. She could feel strong, hard muscle underneath the person's shirt, and knew it was a man, but his name still hovered at the corner of her mind- like a pesky bug that wouldn't allow itself to be caught.

A door creaked, and she could smell the chemical, faux-lemon scent of disinfectant and cleaner, and she knew they were in a bathroom. The man set her down, and she felt the cold tiles of the floor leech through her thin pants, making her muscles seize up in shurprise. He began to peel off her clothes, as quickly as possible, but she was too weak to protest. Havilah looked at him from beneath her lashes, her eyes heavy, and watched as he stood up, taking her with him and holding her against the wall, before turning a shiny, chrome knob.

_Fwissh! _A torrent of icy-cold water hit her, and she shrieked, suddenly snapping wide-awake. Desperately attempting to block the water, but hindered by the man's tight grip on her wrists, she screamed out for him to stop, his name coming to her lips without a moment of hesitation.

"Stop it! Loki! Turn it off! Stop!" She begged, shaking from the freezing, wet onslaught, practically in tears. She could hear the handle's shrill squeak as it was turned off, and the last few drops of water splashed down, hitting the top of her head.

"Here." Something soft and thick was thrust into her hands, and she pulled it around herself, the scent of fresh laundry vaguely comforting. It was a towel, Avi realized, her ragged fingernails catching on the bits of loose thread as she ran her fingers over it, still slightly confused. She looked up, a soaking wet Loki towering over her, his jet-black hair sticking to his cheeks. His eyes, bright and impossibly green, seemed to hold some trace of concern.

"Wh- what…" Her throat stung, as if she had just delivered a long, loud speech to a large audience, making her voice slightly hoarse. "What h- happened?"

"I went looking for you," Loki explained, adjusting his grip on her so that his hands moved from her wrists to her waist. "And entered your room. I found you passed out on the floor in a ball, hyperventilating and shaking uncontrollably."

He looked down for the first time, suddenly noticing how wet he had become from holding her upright in the shower. His grip loosened, and Avi began to plummet towards the ground, her body still too weak to function properly. Within seconds, she was in his arms again.

"Your blood sugar needs to be spiked," he told her as he scooped her up, towel and all, and made his way towards the door. "A glass of juice will wake you up…"

With a resigned sigh, Havilah nodded, sleepiness crashing over her again now that she was no longer being blasted by frigid water. Loki walked down the hall, silent, and she closed her eyes, her head dipping as her body began to settle down, like a child preparing to go to sleep.

"Agent Barton," Loki called out for the stone-faced man, nodding for him to come over. Avi could feel the vibrations in his throat, and realized that she was leaning into his neck. "Go and get Havilah some clothes."

The agent nodded, briskly walking away and leaving Havilah acutely aware that all she had on was a towel and a soaking wet bra and underwear set. Her cheeks turned bright red, and she made sure to keep from making eye contact with Loki.

They entered the kitchen, and he carefully placed her in a chair, before going over to one of the cabinets and searching around for a cup. Glass clinked, and drawers opened and closed, an ear-splitting symphony of slams and crashes that made her head pound.

"They're…" Havilah leaned on the table, pressing her cheek into the smooth wood and weakly waving her hand in Loki's direction as she mumbled. "They're in that cupboard… The glasses…"

"Oh." The god paused, almost as if he was embarrassed, but quickly grabbed a cup from the area she was pointing, placing it on the counter and beginning to rummage through the fridge. He picked up a carton of apple juice, the golden liquid splashing as he poured it into the glass, a few stray drops falling onto the floor. He placed it in front of Avi, and she nodded in a weak attempt to thank him.

They sat in silence, Havilah occasionally sipping at the juice, her hands shaking. She could feel Loki's eyes on her, and she glanced down at her lap, lips pursed.

"Here." Agent Barton appeared in the doorway, a bundle of clothes in his arms. He placed them on the table and left, silent.

Avi wasted no time in attempting to put on the clothes, but her movements were so clumsy that she could only manage to get one arm through the wrong sleeve, accidentally punching herself in the face in the process. She could feel tears of frustration beginning to well up inside of her. Loki shook his head and leaned forward, helping her guide her limbs into the proper holes, before handing her the pair of sweatpants. They sat still, small beads of water occasionally dripping off the end of their hair and splashing on the concrete floor.

"Loki…" Avi began, fidgeting slightly. "Why… Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I can't let my workers die, can I?" He shrugged, shaking off the events of the past hour, the way one dusts themselves off after a fall.

She took another sip of the juice, letting it sit in her mouth momentarily, savoring the sweet, fresh flavor. Swallowing the mouthful, she placed the glass back on the table and began to trace the patterns ingrained within the wood, her finger following the line of one of the whorls in the table.

"Would you still help your workers if they… Wanted to die?" Her words faded, becoming a whisper, as she hung her head low.

"Are you… Talking about yourself?" He asked her, a note of confusion in his voice. His dark brows drew together, a small furrow forming between them as he regarded her, obviously bewildered.

"Death doesn't exactly sound too terrible, right now," Avi shrugged half-heartedly, not even bothering to lie. "But I made a promise, and I have to keep it. I mean… I'd accept death if it came, but I won't actively seek it. I promised to live… No matter how much I hate it."

"Who did you promise?"

Havilah didn't answer, simply standing up and placing the empty glass in the sink, before walking out the door. She paused at the threshold, not bothering look back. Loki stared at her, waiting for her to speak, taking in the way she clutched at the doorframe, her knuckles white

"Thank you..." She murmured, her voice quiet, before exiting, head hung low.


End file.
